


Turtle Soup (Mashup)

by Outlander_Geekery



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, Turtle Soup, uncharted - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12911781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outlander_Geekery/pseuds/Outlander_Geekery
Summary: This is a mash up of the show's version and book's version of Turtle Soup. While I definitely enjoyed the show's playful and sexy adaptation, I did miss some of my favorite parts and lines from the book. I decided to try and write a mashup of all of my favorites of both. And, of course, I couldn't fade to black...





	Turtle Soup (Mashup)

**Author's Note:**

> This work includes direct lines of dialogue taken from Diana Gabaldon’s Voyager. No infringement is intended.

She had that look in her eye. He knew that look.

“You--” He started to say as she gave him a sleepy smile and wrapped her arm around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

“Mmmm…” She moaned at the feeling of his unusually cool lips meeting her own much warmer set.

“-- should keep yer strength up.” He disentangled from her grip and positioned himself back on the desk. He needed to keep a level head if he planned to make it through the night without begging her to take pity on him and let him take his pleasure. 

She momentarily paused her ministrations and gave him a slapdash salute as she turned her attention back to the soup. Through a mouthful she asked, “What kind of soup is this?”

“Ah, turtle.” Jamie said. 

“I’ve never had turtle before. It’s marvelous.” 

As he watched her abandon the spoon and clumsily pick up the entire bowl, Jamie decided to intervene before his new captain’s desk reeked of turtle for the remainder of their journey.

“Let me help you.” He took the bowl and held out a spoonful. 

Claire narrowed her eyes at him but reluctantly accepted the offering. 

“Manzetti took a large hawksbill last night.” Jamie said as Claire savored the sip, her hand wandering up his leg to rest hot against his thigh. The warm soup coupled with her fever had made her feel flush, and uninhibited, and -- something else. The slight ache she had felt in her head earlier due to the fever was fading, but a new ache was forming somewhat lower.

He fed her another sip and this time Claire playfully dodged from side to side making him follow her before opening her mouth wide and capturing the spoon like a kitten pouncing on prey. 

“Willoughby wasted no time putting it in a pot.” Jamie ignored her antics. 

At the third spoonful she shook her head. “Give me the bowl. If I can stab myself in the arse with a needle, I can surely feed myself.” The throb of the earlier injection wound was starting to pale in comparison to the throb just behind her pelvic wall. Having Jamie this close again was intoxicating.

“There is something you could help me with...” She set down the bowl and sloppily wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “You know, turtle is supposed to be an aphrodisiac.”

“Ye need to rest.” He wanted nothing more than to throw her down on the desk, but she was hurt and ill, and needed his care, not his cock. “And what is it they say? Abstinence makes the heart grow firmer, no?” 

“Absence,” she replied with a smirk, “And fonder.” Her hand traveled around the hard muscles of this thigh. “I’ve had my fill of absence and  _ abstinence _ .” She leaned in for another kiss. “If anything’s growing firmer from abstinence, it wouldn’t be the heart.” 

“That’s verra bawdy talk for a respectable marrit woman,” Jamie suddenly became too aware of her overheated hand on his body. “And inconsiderate, forbye.”

“Inconsiderate? Why?”  Claire swept a bit of her hair out of her face.

“I’m a wee bit firm myself at the moment,” Jamie stood up and walked a safe distance to the other side of the desk. “What wi’ you sitting there wi’ your hair loose and your nipples starin’ me in the eye, the size of cherries.”

Claire grinned approvingly at her loose curls, and looked down to peek inside her shift. Her nipples weren’t erect, but they were plump and flushed from fever.

“Well, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“I have drunk water every day since I was weaned,” he pointed out. “It doesna mean I canna be thirsty, still.”

She climbed up in her chair, trying to balance one knee shakily on the desk to get closer to him. “Bolt the door.”

“Bolt the door?”

“Mm-hmmm.” Claire leaned in more, trying to capture his lips.

“Why would I do that?” Jamie said, keeping his distance just enough so she couldn’t make contact. “Do I look like the sort of man who would take advantage of a woman that’s no only wounded and boiling with fever, but drunk as well?” He moved forward to nuzzle her nose with his own.

Claire laughed. “I’m not drunk. You can’t get drunk on turtle soup.” As she said the words, though, it dawned on her that through her fever-addled brain, she hadn’t been able to recognize immediately that she possibly found more than just Jamie intoxicating tonight.

“You can if it’s Willoughby’s turtle soup.” Jamie replied. Claire laughed again, huffing a breath in his face. “By the smell of it there is a whole bottle of Sherry in it.”

No, absolutely not. She may be slightly tipsy due to her tolerance being lowered by illness, but she certainly wasn’t drunk. “Besides,” She stood up and walked around the desk to prove it to him, “You once told me that you can’t be drunk if you’re standing up.”

“Aye.”

“Ooh, now--” Claire stumbled and reached up to wrap her arm around Jamie’s neck just in time. 

“Aye, but you are hardly standing up.” His arms enveloped her and he gave in to a kiss. He was used to her skin being cool and dry compared to his -- this was incredibly arousing. 

“Stop trying to change the subject,” She kissed him, “Do I make you firm?” 

“Since the day we first met.”

“Does it ache?” She asked coyly. “Shall I take a look at it?”

“You shall not!” He exclaimed. She was playing dirty -- to speak to him this way. Lord, help him. “Someone might come in. And I canna think your looking at it would help a bit.” He tried to pull out of her arms but she tightened her hold.

“Well you can’t tell that until I have looked at it, can you?” 

“And ye will stop talking about it. Because I wouldna use force on a woman--”

She grabbed him, her sturdy hold encasing his stiff penis in warmth through his breeches. “Oh, my. Heavens, you do have a problem.” She teased.

“You have a very healthy grip, for someone with a fever.” He said, strangled. 

Claire laughed and kissed him hard to distract him from the fact that she had started to undo his breeches.

“This must be what it is like making love in hell,” He wrapped his arms around her and revelled in how hot she felt in his arms, “with a burning she-devil.” 

“Does my mouth feel hot?” Claire huskily breathed into his mouth.

“Like lava…”

She quickly dropped to her knees, pushed his breeches down and engulfed him.

“Dear, God, Sassenach!” Pleasure flooded all of his senses. Her mouth was so hot and wet. Claire had always treated this particular activity with enthusiasm, tonight however, with her inhibitions gone, her abandon was blissful. She eagerly bobbed up and down as she took him deeper and deeper, licking and sucking as if he was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. It would be so easy to just hold on and let go--

“No! Someone could come in any moment!” He had teased her about getting caught before, but right now he was terrified someone would actually walk through the door and see his wife on her knees.

“Mmm-eye mmold mu mu mhould mave molted mhe moor.” She said, not bothering to take her mouth off of him to speak.

He reached down and yanked her up by her arms. There was an audible, “pop!” and cold air assaulted his engorged flesh. He started kissing her fiercely. He had no fight left in him. He had to have her right now. Jamie grabbed her in his arms and spun around to stumble backwards towards the door. Claire reached up and fumbled with the heavy iron barrel bolt until the shaft slipped into place.

They continued to ravish each other as they quickly shed the rest of their clothes. Jamie backed Claire up to a small wooden vanity across from the desk where they had started their tryst.

With a quick shimmy Claire’s shift fell to the floor and he grabbed her ass firm to bring their lower halves together in an experimental thrust. Claire grunted at the contact, but quickly smiled and twisted in his arms to offer her backside.

Jamie gave no hesitation before he aligned and thrust deep inside. It had been a long time since he had had her like this. The sweet-smelling curls of her hair tickling his face, and her hot flesh surrounding his cock were heaven. She was grunting and squirming against his pelvis like a wild--

There was a knock at the door. 

The hand that had been on it’s way to grab one of Claire’s breasts flew up to her mouth instead to muffle a moan.

“Shhh…”

“Honorable Wife, she enjoyed the turtle soup?” Willoughby inquired from behind the door.

“Ye--yes, yes. Very much.” Jamie said a silent prayer Claire had indeed bolted the door correctly as he continued to drive into her over and over. 

“It was a fine hawksbill turtle. A most elegant beast.” Why was Willoughby still talking? And why wasn’t Claire being quiet?

Jamie brought his hand back up to Claire’s mouth and this time she bit down. 

“Does she wish for more?” Willoughby continued, “I have made a fresh pot.”

Claire moaned and for just a moment Jamie thought it could have less to due with pleasure and more to do with the idea of another bowl of the savory soup.

“No, no, no. No, she’s had more than enough.” Jamie exclaimed in what he hoped was a controlled voice. 

“No, she hasn’t!” Claire exclaimed.

“Good night, Willoughby!” Jamie bellowed, as Claire groaned with abandon with each slide of his shaft.

“Good night.” The space behind the bolted door fell quiet.

“Oh my God…” Claire said giggling. “Do you think he knows?”

Jamie slowed down his rhythm. “He wrote an ode to the female body. I’m sure he can recognize the sounds of one being cherished.” He said as he licked the side of Claire’s neck.

With renewed confidence that they were indeed alone, and the door was locked, Jamie redoubled his efforts. 

“Claire,” He reached down and tapped her outer thigh, “Spread your legs wider for me.”

She did as he asked and his hand snaked down between her thighs. He slid his fingers to graze either side of his cock as he pistoned in and out of her. They were so slippery and hot where they were joined. Once his fingers were wet, he moved back up to slide them on either side of her stiff clitoris. 

“Fuck, Jamie…” Claire moaned as he pinched and rolled it between his fingers. Her head bent forward to look down as his other hand moved up to her breast.

“Look in the mirror, Sassenach,” Jamie whispered in her ear. “See what I see. See how beautiful you are.” 

Claire reached back to grip the back of Jamie’s head with both hands and looked in the mirror and gasped at what she saw. She was absolutely wanton. Her hair was a mess. Her face was flush. Her mouth hung open with dazed pleasure. Her back was arched, pushing herself into Jamie anywhere they could join. One of Jamie’s hands rolled an erect nipple between his fingers while his other hand played with her clitoris. She could hear the wet sounds of their union, and feel the slap of his balls against her mound with every thrust. _They_ were beautiful.

“I canna, I canna, please are ye close Claire?” Jamie begged. She knew he was about to lose himself completely.

“Yes, yes, yes, Jamie, so close, don’t stop.” Claire cried. “You feel so good.” She bent forward and extended her uninjured arm as far as she could to press her ass back into him. She started meeting every thrust with as much force as he was giving. A faraway thought floated through her head that she may be slightly embarrassed tomorrow at how ribald her actions were tonight.

She clenched her walls as tight as she could as she thrust, and concentrated on the fingers working her sensitive flesh. She felt the dam break and a first wave of release flood her insides. She grabbed the pillow on the vanity and buried her face into it to capture her moans and string of curse words.

Her body opened to him even more with her orgasm and Jamie felt like he was reaching her soul. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this deep inside of her. He finally let go and let his seed fill her with such force he was sure she could feel each pulse.

He collapsed on top of her while their breathing slowed. 

“How is your arm?” He asked.

“It’s fine,” Claire muffled from the pillow. She was suddenly exhausted. She looked up and caught his eye in the mirror, “Thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?”

“For taking care of me. In all ways.” Claire blushed.

“My pleasure. Always.” Jamie said. He lifted the blanket off the vanity and moved it between their legs as he separated from her. He gently cleaned Claire’s thighs before gathering her into his arms once again. “Do you want more soup, Sassenach?”

“No,” Claire laughed, “I’ve had enough. I’m quite drunk.” 

“Oh, are ye now?” Jamie smiled.

Claire gave him a sheepish smile. “Will you come to bed with me? I want nothing more than to fall asleep in your arms right now -- to feel safe and comforted for the first night in a while.”

“Aye, mo nighean donn. Always. In all ways.”  
  
  
  
  



End file.
